


the hands of fate (my achilles heel)

by incxndias



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hosie, henelope - Freeform, i havent decided yet, i just miss them, is here too, may eventually turn into, phosie, posie - Freeform, soft, we all need a little posie and hosie in our lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:00:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25376554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incxndias/pseuds/incxndias
Summary: The Merge. The bane of Penelope’s existence. The one thing she hated most in the world. Trying to take away the one person she loved. The loophole was there. Somewhere in the city of Antwerp, in which she currently resided. She could feel it, the pull it had. The supernatural creatures guarding the cure seemed to call out to her. They begged her to come for the last item she would need to complete the spell that would end it all. The spell that would put her life at risk yet save Josie’s.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson & Penelope Park, Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Penelope Park, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 16
Kudos: 70





	1. fate is never fair

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't decided where I'm going to go with this yet, but next chapter will have some Henelope/Hosie, and it'll be sort of a slow(er) burn for all of my Posie shippers. Just for the angst, y'know? Hope you enjoy!

The Merge. The bane of Penelope’s existence. The one thing she hated most in the world. Trying to take away the one person she loved. The loophole was there. Somewhere in the city of Antwerp, in which she currently resided. She could feel it, the pull it had. The supernatural creatures guarding the cure seemed to call out to her. They begged her to come for the last item she would need to complete the spell that would end it all. The spell that would put her life at risk yet save Josie’s. 

Now, as she ran from the witch that chased after her, the witch that had been chasing her for the past few months, she thought of a transportation spell. She thought of the one place she had felt was her home away from home and only prayed that the owner of the pouty lips she loved so much wasn’t there to ask why she had randomly shown up with a big gash that ran down the length of her side or why her shoulder looked like it had been pierced with an arrow. 

Those had been answers she wasn’t ready to tell. She wasn’t ready to let Josie know she had been risking her life everyday since she had moved to Belgium. Yet she risked being exposed as she teleported into the twins’ dorm room. 

She held her side and breathed heavily as her feet came back to solid ground and she felt the familiar presence of the room she had spent so much time in before the break up. She grasped the bed frame beside her and attempted to find some form of balance so she wouldn’t fall over and bleed out in the middle of Josie’s room. 

She doubted the girl would want to come back and find such a thing; the body of her ex laying on the floor surrounded by blood. Lizzie would probably just be worried about the mess she made on the floor. 

Penelope hunched over and tried her best to remember any healing spell she could, but she knew no spell could help her this time. The witch she had encountered had been too powerful, and along with her keeping some supernatural creature’s blood, Penelope knew the only thing she could do was get it stitched up and wait it out. 

She had to find some other place to go before the twin’s returned from their classes. 

She pushed off of the bed and grasped at the door handle, turning it while clutching her side. Her steps were heavy as she made her way down the hail, no doubt leaving a few drops of blood here and there but not so much as to make a distinct trail. She’d never be able to guess why her feet carried her in the direction they did. 

Call it fate, maybe. 

After a minute of clutching at the wall and trying not to topple over, the witch found herself in front of a room that she had only been in a handful of times. She tried the handle, unsurprisingly locked. Her mind had become groggy and it took longer than it should have to think up a spell to unlock it. 

The magic that pulsed it’s way through her veins and out of her palms brought her a certain power. It made her feel whole, even if she were about to bleed out in the dormroom of the one person part of her was always jealous of. Another part of her had a soft spot for the girl and the reasoning was a mystery. 

When she left, she knew she would take care of Josie though. She had always seen it in hidden glances and soft smiles, small gestures between the two. They cared for each other like Penelope cared for Josie, like Josie cared for Penelope once too. 

She turned the knob and stumbled into the room. Holding herself up using the desk by the door, she turned and shut it before teetering over to the middle of the room and falling down. A gasp escaped her and she bit her lip. 

Penelope eyed the room and eventually decided to prop herself up against the bed frame. She looked around for anything she could use to keep herself awake. Anything to stop the bleeding. Stitching herself up would be dangerous and she figured the auburn haired tribrid may have a spell to help in one of her aunt’s grimoires, but she needed to be awake because if she closed her eyes she knew the chance of waking up again was slim. There were words left unsaid between her and Josie, even between her and Lizzie, maybe some left unsaid between her and Hope. 

She needed to at least hear Josie’s voice one more time before she went. Then she’d be satisfied. She could rest easy. 

The ravenette scoffed at her own cheesiness and shook the thoughts from her head. Her breathing worked its way to becoming more ragged and uncontrolled even though she tried to keep it steady. Focused on certain objects in the room; pictures, pens, paintings, books. She must’ve read every book title she could see on the shelf. Once more she scanned the room for things, before her eyes closed and she forced them back open. 

In the corner by the bookshelf sat a stack of albums, CDs of musicians that were mainly older. There were some Penelope hadn’t known, mostly the jazz artists, but there was an album that caught her eye. Pray for the Wicked by Panic! At The Disco sat on top of Mozart and Freddie Hubbard. 

A mumbling mess, she recited lyrics to herself. One might have thought her crazy, but it was a distraction from the gash and her possible death, at least until Hope got there and could help her, which would hopefully be any minute. 

“Hmm hmm ‘hat they don’t call me ‘hankless,” she stumbled through, “my tell-tale heart’s a hammer in my chest.” 

A coughing fit wracked her body before she continued, “Cut me a silk tied tourni-” 

_ A tourniquet. Of course. It really took having to sing through a song for you to figure it out?  _

She swore her stupidity would get the better of her one day, assuming she was still alive. 

Her hand removed itself from the gash and she carefully lifted up her black t-shirt. At least the stains would be easier to remove. Her features were contorted as she lifted the material from the blood it stuck too. She drew in a breath and brought it up the rest of the way over her head. The material was thin, but the sleeves were long so she attempted to tie it around her waist as tightly as possible. 

The bleeding didn’t stop, but it slowed. 

It must have been about five minutes later when she repositioned herself to lay in the middle of the floor. A look to her right caught her staring back at herself through Hope’s full length mirror. She laughed at the bitterness of it all. 

How she was willing to risk her life for the girl everyone thought she had given up on. How the girl hadn’t even known what she was doing. How she would probably be called selfish and irresponsible for it. 

Her reflection looked back at her. She noticed how tired she looked, how her face paled and her eyes drooped. They threatened to close and she had already fought them off for so long, so she allowed them to shut. She allowed herself to nod off, and she trusted herself to wake up again. 

But not before saying, “I love you, JoJo.” 

Because saying it makes it real. Saying it means it was heard. 

Just in case. 


	2. unexpected reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y’all enjoy, there’s a little bit of Hosie, Posie, and Henelope in this chapter. You may have to squint to find it though. I know I said it’d be longer, but I promise next chapter will be! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Hope made her way from the library to her room. She walked through the halls with her head held high and her shoulders straight, but with her books against her chest. Heads turned as she walked by, people stared. They only looked away when she glared at them. 

She promised Josie she’d stop doing that. Just walk through and pay them no attention, but it proved to be harder than she assumed it’d be. It gets annoying when people continuously stare, especially when she’s known those people since second grade. Honestly, she thought they’d be used to having the “Big Bad Tribrid” around them, but every monster attack proves that they’re either scared of her or too intimidated by her to actually strike up a conversation. Hope sighed and rolled her eyes as she cleared her mind of those thoughts, though she had pondered what would happen if she walked up to one of the students in the hall and started talking to them. It’d have been funny to see the confused expression on someone’s face. 

She was glad her free study period ended earlier than normal because her teachers decided to be nice for once. Homework was light that week, so she had mainly focused on her Magical Theory essay that was due the following Monday. 

Her head turned when she finally stopped outside of her dorm room door. She pulled the key out of her skirt pocket (she’d have to remind herself to thank Lizzie and Josie for adding those to the uniform) and slid it into the lock. She turned her wrist with her eyebrows drawn. The key hadn’t budged. 

Strange. 

Hope could have sworn she locked the door that morning before breakfast. The tribrid cautiously pulled the key out of the lock and put it back in her pocket. Her hand came up to the doorknob and she forced herself to turn it slowly. The door pushed open almost as slowly as the knob had turned and Hope peeked through the small crack. It wasn’t wide enough to see anything except for her bedpost and maybe two books she had left laying around on her desk. The books had somehow found their way to the floor, though. 

Maybe Hope had just been more tired that morning than she thought. 

She opened the door wider and noticed the few papers on her desk she knew for a fact used to be stacked neatly on top of each other were awry, one leaning half way off, daring itself to fall to the floor. 

The crack in the door widened as she pushed it open a bit further, hoping there wasn’t a monster in there. She kept her eyes trained inside her room, scanning it in every direction. 

A small gasp left her when she saw the blood that stained her carpet, but more importantly, the person the trail led to. 

First, a tanned hand lay sprawled out, fingers relaxed. Hope’s eyes found themselves following the person’s arm all the way up their face. They had their head tilted back, yet again relaxed, almost as if they were taking a nap. Though the only prominent features Hope could make out were their jawline and nearly shoulder length hair, there was no doubt of who the person was. 

Penelope Park. 

The person that had unlocked Hope’s door and probably struggled to sit themself against her bed frame, the person that lost consciousness on Hope’s bedroom floor, was Penelope Park. 

Oh. Shit. 

Penelope Park was bleeding out on her floor. 

“Shit shit shit,” Hope muttered frantically and closed her door before making her way to the closet. She moved some things around in a rush and pulled out one of the grimoires Freya had given her. 

Hope plopped herself down on the carpet next to Penelope but away from the blood, and rapidly flipped through the grimoire until she found something. 

“Ah!” She moved her finger back from turning the pages and shook it a little. Of course she found a way to get a paper cut at a time like this. 

She paid it no more attention and returned to looking through the grimoire while also trying to get Penelope back to consciousness. Fear settled deep within Hope but she prayed for the best as she thought about the worst. 

“Penelope, if you can hear me, I need you to do something. Move your fingers, make a sound, anything.” 

The tribrid waited a moment for something to happen. 

Nothing did. 

Not even seconds later, she opened the grimoire to a powerful healing spell. One she had seen Freya use only a handful of times. The spell was non-verbal and Hope had only tried it once before, but at that moment, it was Penelope’s only chance. 

The auburn haired girl looked at the wounds on her friend’s body. There were smaller cuts and bruises that would heal on their own, but the arrow-sized hole in her shoulder and gaping wound in the girl’s side were the main points of blood loss. 

Hope placed her hand on Penelope’s shoulder lightly, and it was then she noticed the ravenette had only been wearing her jeans and a bra. The piece of clothing wrapped around her waist was assumed to be her shirt. The Mikaelson was glad that Penelope thought to make a tourniquet. 

She turned her attention back to the wound on Penelope’s shoulder. Her eyes closed and she thought about the way she wanted the spell to work, what she wanted it to do. A strange sound filled her ears, whispers, then just as quickly as they came, they ceased. 

Hope, despite already feeling kind of drained, opened her eyes and gently ran her fingers over the skin where the wound used to be, not believing it was gone at first. She shook her head and pulled her hand away. The second wound was longer but not as deep as the first had been. She rubbed her hands together, as if that’d help. 

One more time. Penelope’s life depended on it. 

Hope used her enhanced hearing to listen to the girl’s heartbeat. With every passing second it seemed to be more faint. 

She quickly put both of her hands over the wound, repeating what she had done the first time. The whispers stayed longer that time, but once they halted, the wound had been healed almost completely. The only thing left behind was a faint, pink scar. 

Hope carefully unwrapped the black t-shirt from around Penelope’s waist and threw it in a corner, grimacing at the blood it left on her hands. The girl’s heartbeat seemed to be steadier now that she was mostly healed, and a deep breath escaped Hope as relief washed over her. 

The sane thing to do would be to go and get Josie or Lizzie, or tell Alaric that Penelope almost died, and still has a chance of dying. But Hope knew that Josie would be angry at the girl next to her for putting herself in danger. They also still had so many unsorted feelings between them, and Hope knew the two needed to talk them out, yet she had only just figured out her feelings for Josie. She felt selfish for wanting the brunette, especially after all Penelope put herself through for the taller girl, but she couldn’t help it. Josie’s adorable smile and the way she looks down when she gets flustered unsurprisingly captured the young Mikaelson’s heart. In a way, Hope admired Penelope for her strength. She saw aspects of the relationship she had with Josie, and when Penelope looked at the younger girl, it seemed like the stars had aligned. 

Although, there was an incident where Penelope had caught Hope watching them from across the room and winked at her. Really, Hope assumed Penelope would have glared at her, but the tribrid couldn’t have hid the fact she had been staring at the both of them. 

There was a part of Hope that knew Penelope Park made her feel some type of way. A small crush way back when. After her crush on Josie had dissipated, of course. Though those feelings were scratching the surface once again. Even now, as Hope allowed herself to think about it, she realized her feelings for Josie had never quite gone away. She knew though, that between her and Penelope, it would always be Penelope. And Hope was fine with that. Probably. She had to be.

Hope shook the thoughts away and stood up. She went back into her closet and put the grimoire back then searched for a t-shirt Penelope could wear. After a few minutes of looking through her clothes, she eventually found an old Salvatore flag football shirt that she never wore and walked back over to the unconscious girl. Hope paused before getting down on her knee, trying to come up with a way to slip the shirt on Penelope in a non-violating way. 

The tribrid carefully pulled the shirt over Penelope’s head and gently grasped her shoulders to bring her forward so she could move her arms through the holes. It took her about three more minutes to get the shirt on, a product of being overly cautious. 

Hope let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. The younger girl’s back would probably kill her when she woke up if she stayed in that position, so Hope bent down and picked her up, moving her to the bed. She then grabbed her desk chair and put it beside the bed, then sat down. 

“What did you get yourself into, Pen? You know, if Josie were here right now she’d kill you. She’s going to be so angry with me for not telling her, but I know you wouldn’t want her to see you like this. Hell, with any luck she’d barge in right now and demand to know what the fuck happened.” 

Hope turned her head toward the door, letting a moment pass, not really expecting Josie to come barging in even if a part of her hoped the brunette would. 

Nothing happened. It was silent save for the sound of either girl’s breathing. 

After a moment, Hope spoke. 

“You better not even think about going anywhere. There are so many questions that need to be answered and you bet your ass I’m going to get the answers out of you when you wake up. There are so many things that were left unsaid between you and Josie, you and me. MG, too. He’d definitely get onto me for not telling him that you’re here. You’re here, Penelope. You’re here and you could’ve died. God, for someone as smart as you are, you’re actually one of the dumbest people I’ve had the opportunity of knowing.” 

She let out a small laugh, her eyes brimmed with tears. She didn’t know why she started to cry, she didn’t even know Penelope that well. Maybe the tears were a long time coming and the thought of Penelope dying sent her over the edge. 

“I’ve seen you fight monsters multiple times, you were pretty badass with those zombies, by the way,” Hope smiled fondly, “you’re a fighter Pen. You’re going to fight this. You’re going to win. You better win or else I’m going to summon your spirit all the fucking time just to yell at you. We need to make a deal or something, like no more doing stupid things when you wake up.” 

Hope could only stare at her feet after everything she said. She thought about going to get Alaric. Maybe he wouldn’t be as angry with her if she told him then, but ultimately, she decided against it because if Alaric knew, the twins would know. They could always tell when their father was hiding something from them. Hope secretly cursed the headmaster for being such a bad liar. 

Her eyes started to droop, and she figured it was due to the spell she used to heal the younger girl earlier. Even though she tried to stay awake, in case Penelope woke up or moved even in the slightest way, sleep was victorious. 

And moments later, she drifted off with her head laying on the bed and her hand gently placed on top of Penelope’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a little gay, don’t ya think? Feedback is much appreciated! 
> 
> You can find me and yell at me on Twitter @/incxndias

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Feedback is appreciated, let me know if I should continue or not!


End file.
